


all good and wonderful things

by iihappydaysii



Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander (TV), Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Ardsmuir, Explicit Sexual Content, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff, Gay John, M/M, bi jamie, blackjack who, top jamie, very light angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:01:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23604982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iihappydaysii/pseuds/iihappydaysii
Summary: In Ardsmuir, it's Jamie that makes the first move on Lord John who is reluctant because of his position as governor of the prison.
Relationships: Jamie Fraser/Lord John Grey
Comments: 5
Kudos: 145
Collections: Outlander Bingo Challenge





	all good and wonderful things

**Author's Note:**

> For the "a good way to warm up when it's cold" square.
> 
> Beta by driveablecar!! thank you so much <3

Jamie Fraser kissed him. He had that right, didn’t he? It wasn’t the result of a fever dream? He hadn’t been slipped some opium?

No, it had happened. Lord John was sure of it. 

Jamie Fraser, notorious Jacobite prisoner, had kissed him.

On the mouth. 

And it was good. So good. Jamie had tasted like the wine, like the dinner they shared. His kiss had been firm but gentle. Giving Grey something, but not everything. Not yet, at least.

Lord John had kissed him back. At first, driven by the call of his own body. The connection had sent licks of flame through his body. The licks started where their mouths met and then expanded out. It consumed him like thin parchment in a hearth. 

Then reason had set in.

Grey had put his hand on the much bigger man and shoved. Fraser stepped back.

“Stop,” Grey had said blearily. “What were you thinking?”

“Major, I...” Fraser’s voice had been warm, as comforting as good whisky. 

John had wanted to kiss him again. He’d wanted a hell of a lot more than that too. Shit. If he hadn’t gotten Fraser out of there right then, he’d have buckled under the temptation.

“Get out,” Grey barely managed. “You need to leave, Fraser. Now. Get the fuck out.”

Jamie’s mouth set into a frown and he breathed once hard through his nostrils before stomping out of John’s chambers.

Grey had braced himself on the edge of the table. He tucked a fallen bishop under his palm and squeezed. He opened his flies with his other hand and made to spend himself roughly. Quickly. To get the taste of the man out of his mouth, the feel of Fraser’s lips erased. 

Lord John came on the stone floor, cursing Scotland. 

Now he was alone and sprawled out on his couch with a thumb pressed to his temples to keep down the headache. Jamie Fraser had kissed him. John had wanted it, but he couldn’t have it. It would be taking advantage and God, why did life have to be so complicated?

Why couldn’t he find someone—someone as wonderful as Jamie Fraser—and just have him?

Why did all the good and wonderful things feel so far out of reach?

* * *

It wasn’t often that Jamie Fraser felt foolish. Tonight, however, he felt extremely foolish. Jamie had kissed Lord John, and for a moment, he’d kissed back. His desires were likely stirred by Jamie’s physicality. Once Grey had composed himself, he’d curtly rejected Jamie.

Still, it was hard for Fraser to regret what he’d done. He brushed fingers over his lips, then pulled them away. Once again, feeling foolish, as the evening flashed by once more in his mind. 

He’d arrived in the governor’s room as he always did on the evenings they took a meal together. It had been cold in the cells and it was cold in the governor's chambers. Scottish wind and rain bitter cold and unbearable. Both he and John were shivering through their dinner. Neither one of them could easily manage to put their forks to their mouths. 

If it hadn’t been for that, for the cold, for John’s hand trembling so much, that he’d spilled wine down the front of his clothes. It may never have happened at all.

It had because Jamie had laughed and grabbed a napkin. He'd leaned forward, breathed in the man's cardamom cologne, as he blotted the wine away. He’d patted the red spill on the governor’s neck cloth.

“There’s no need for you to,” Lord John had said, lying a hand over Jamie’s.

The touch moved through Jamie the way music had before he’d lost his sense of it. Touching John, like that, it had been like hearing a song—truly hearing it--as it was meant to be heard—for the first time in years. 

When his gaze moved up and met John’s, Jamie sensed he felt the same. That they shared in whatever this was between them. So, he'd done the thing that felt natural to do and captured Lord John’s soft lips in a kiss. 

John had kissed him back. He had. He had. And then…

Jamie’s head fell into his hands. Foolish. So damn foolish to think Lord John would want him, even if they found pleasure in each other’s company. Even if John had confessed his attractions to men through the story of the lover from his regiment, that didn’t translate to this. To taking up with a traitor, Jamie thought coldly.

He could only hope the governor was as honorable as Jamie believed him to be. He could only hope John would not use his moment of weakness, of foolishness, against the other men at the prison.

* * *

Lord John spent the entire evening nervous to see Fraser again. When the man walked into his room, the nerves only worsened.

“Fraser, we need to discuss the events of the last evening,” John said, stiffly.

Jamie’s mouth moved into a deep frown. “Ye were clear on yer feelings about that, Major.”

It hurt to see him like this after they’d been so warm with each other. And he was wrong about the reason John had thrown him out.

“No, I wasn’t. I asked you to leave not because the gesture offended me, but because of how much I enjoyed it.”

The tension in Jamie’s frame eased and he crowded John against the table with his massive frame. “Weel, if ye enjoyed it, I’d be happy to give it another try.”

Want washed over John like a heavy wave. “No, no we can’t. You’re a prisoner.”

“Aye, I’m beneath you then.” Fraser’s jaw set tight, lips tipping into a frown.

“No, no,” Grey corrected as quickly as he could. “I mean, you’re my prisoner. I could have you flogged,”

Fraser raised a single red eyebrow. “Do ye plan to?”

“No. No but I could.” Heat crept up his neck. “I could have you flogged. Returned to your shackles. I’m in a position of power over you, Fraser.”

“Power? Over me? Ye think so, Major?” A grin spread across his lips. Before John could protest, big hands lifted him up on the table.

“Mr. Fraser!” he gasped.

With a laugh, Jamie pressed up against him and whispered warm in his ear, “Tell me again about this power ye’ve over me. I’d be verra interested to hear.” He kissed the tender spot beneath the lobe.

John shivered. “This is the most…” Fraser moved his mouth up to John’s jaw. “Completely inappropriate…" Over to his chin. “I’m the governor of this…” Up his cheek. “I could call in the guards…” Down to his neck. “You have to understand.” So warm, hot, wet against his neck. Dammit. “Oh Jamie,” he moaned, and felt himself begin to give in. “No, no.” He tried to slide back and away. “This is... I will not take advantage of someone under my authority.”

Fraser smiled again, grabbing John’s thighs and easily tugged him back towards the edge of the table. “I’m under yer authority, am I?” Jamie swept him up in his arms.

“Put me down,” Grey said with not an ounce of conviction.

Fraser dropped him on the sofa, then pounced on John, straddling his hips. Jamie growled in his ear. “Call in the guards, return my shackles, flog me in the courtyard.”

“I could do it,” John whined, squirming beneath heavy, masculine muscles. "That’s the whole goddamn reason we can’t—“

Jamie kissed him again. He kissed him and kissed him and John was only human. So he kissed him back.

“Ye think far too much,” Jamie spoke against his lips. Then, he began to trail his lips down over John’s neck to the hollow of his throat, over his shirt and waistcoat, down to his…

John drew in a sharp breath. “Fraser, what are you doing?”

Jamie’s wild eyes looked up at him under his bright mane of red hair. “Ye canna tell me no one has ever put their mouth on you.”

Grey frowned, gripping his hands into the couch and trying to keep himself together. “Of course they have, but that is far from the point. You’re not listening to me.”

Jamie put his hand on John’s flies and John knew the Scot could feel his arousal. “Say something interesting and I might.”

“Jamie.”

With a sigh, Jamie sat back some. “John. I am no foolish. I am lonely and tired of it, and I ken ye are too. I didna expect to have these sorts of feelings again, especially not for a man, not even one as bonny as ye. But I do have them, and I’ve learned that life is short and the time we have wi’ the people we care for is limited. I ken ye’re aware of that too.”

John swallowed, thinking of Hector. How they truly had not had enough time together. “I am, but that doesn’t make this right.”

With one of those big hands, Jamie grabbed John by the waistcoat and pulled them up to face each other. “Ye are a good man, Major. An honorable one. If ye werena, I wouldna want ye as I do. Give me yer word.”

“My word for what?” Grey’s voice was cracking, just as his defenses were.

“That ye willna use yer position of authority against me or to manipulate any relations we may have wi’ each other? Give me yer word. We both ken ye willna break it.”

“I...”

Jamie cupped John’s cheek and looked him in the eye. “If it was only me who felt it between us, tell me now. Not just the physical want but the kinship of mind and heart. Tell me this is simply a physical need ye want to slake and I’ll never mention it again. But if ye feel it as I do, dinna deny us this. Dinna—“

This time, it was John who kissed Jamie. Deep, holding nothing back. When he pulled away, he drew in long, heavy breaths.

“Dear God, Jamie.” John reached to the man’s rough face, running his hands over sharp stubble. “Of course I feel it. Yes.” He stroked the backs of his fingers over the cheekbones. “Yes. I give you my word.”

“Let me make love to ye, John,” Jamie said, low and dark, then his lips tipped into a smile. “But we dinna fit on the couch. We should take it to the rugs, I reckon.”

Grey nodded and Jamie picked him up again, then laid him out on the rug near the fire.

They undressed each other with careful, happy hands. Never missing an opportunity for their mouths to meet each other, whether on lips or wrists or bellies.

When they were both naked, sweat and spit sticky, Jamie reached for the oil John kept for moistening dry bread. Jamie spilled it all over his fingers. Then, he patiently opened John until those first sharp aches were eased away into warm fullness. Jamie coated his big prick with the oil until it was glistening in the candlelight. 

On his knees, Jamie took hold of John and pulled him up until he was resting on Jamie’s thighs.

Then, they were together. As together as two people could be. Inside each other, around each other, moving together and feeling skin and hair. The scratch of nails and the damp heat of desperate breaths. 

When they came, they came hard and fast, within seconds of each other. They cried out each other’s names. Jamie spilled his seed deep into John as if John were a garden and Jamie was desperate for a harvest.

Sated and boneless, they curled in on each other. In all his life, John Grey had never felt as safe as he did, here, now, dwarfed by Jamie Fraser.

John placed a kiss on Jamie’s chest, just beside a taut nipple. “I don’t want to send you back there.” He thought of the rancid smell, the walls dripping with piss and shit and semen. The cold stone floor for a bed and John's heart ached. 

“I ken ye dinna, but I also ken ye have no choice.”

“I could…” he thought deliriously. “I could help you escape. You did it once.”

“And I came back once too for my kinsman.”

John scooted up and looked Jamie in the eye. “I’ll figure it out, somehow. I will. I’ll figure out how to get everyone out of here. I was already working on something—”

“I didna bugger ye so ye’d help me stage a prison break.”

“Not a prison break,” Grey said. “Real pardons.”

“Ye’re a scrappy wee redcoat, aren’t ye?”

John flipped his body over on top of Jamie’s and kissed his mouth. With tongue and teeth and everything. “The scrappiest.”

  
  



End file.
